


Uncomfortable Admittance

by Blue_Stars_Above



Series: Uncomfortable Realizations [3]
Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: Angst, But before Yang 3 in 2D, Dealing With Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trauma, post-season four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22345060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Stars_Above/pseuds/Blue_Stars_Above
Summary: One rainy night, Carlton finds Shawn in a bar and offers to give him a lift home. Underneath the drunken behaviors, Carlton soon discovers Shawn's hiding a few deep-rooted fears.
Relationships: Carlton Lassiter/Shawn Spencer
Series: Uncomfortable Realizations [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580764
Comments: 21
Kudos: 308





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is the third work in my "Uncomfortable Realizations" series, though it comes first in the timeline. I just like the order this way. More chapters to come :)

At first, Carlton hadn’t even recognized him. He’d been sipping a beer at the bar, more interested in crime updates on his phone than the world around him, when someone had swayed by. Out of the corner of his eye he’d recognized spiky brown hair-- hell, he’d know that hair anywhere, there was only one person in town with that style-- and as he turned, his suspicions were confirmed. It was Shawn.

And he was.... _ drunk? _

On the other side of the room, Shawn was moving with the rhythm of whatever horribly-poppy song was playing. He had a broad, goofy smile plastered onto his face, and was slowly taking off his jacket. Almost sensually. He seemed lost in his own world.

Carlton approached Shawn, tapping him on the shoulder. “Shawn?”

Shawn turned, eyes lighting up with glee and recognition. Before Carlton could stop him, Shawn had enveloped him in a tight hug, pressing the two together. Though his voice was loud, straining to be heard over the music, it felt more like a whisper in Carlton’s ear.

“Aw, hey, Lassie! It’s great to see you here!”

The smell of alcohol was coming off him in waves. Carlton wrinkled his nose, trying to separate himself from Shawn. Shawn only held him tighter, almost looking like a drunk koala bear clinging to a tree.

“Spencer, get the hell off me. What’re you doing here? Where’s Guster?”

Shawn shook his head, almost in time with the music and flashing lights. “No, I....I came here alone. Needed to clear my head, think for a bit.”

Carlton scoffed. “Yeah, sure.” 

“Oh, what’s that supposed to mean?” Shawn slurred his words together, almost in a comedic approximation of a drunk. If he didn’t know any better, Carlton would swear this was some type of practical joke, a set-up to reveal his ‘soft’ side or allow Spencer to spill beer all over him. He glanced about, half-expecting to see O’Hara or Gus peering around a corner with cameras at the ready.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He sighed. Shawn didn’t seem like he was faking it, and he doubted Juliet or Gus would actually get him this drunk. “Listen, do you need a ride home?”

Carlton tried to steer the two towards the door and was met with a series of whines, high-pitched noises that seemed as if they couldn’t have come from Spencer. Shawn gripped his shoulders, though now Carlton was wondering how much of it was for stability.

Shawn slowly shook his head, voice low. “No, no no no. I don’t wanna go home, Lassie.”

He blinked. “Is there someone at your house? Have you been getting death threats?” His hand itched for his gun.

“No! Lassie!” Shawn laughed, drawing out his name. “Stop jumping to crime. I just....I don’t like being alone. It’s dark and quiet and lonely.”

“That’s what the TV’s for.”

Shawn bit his lip, eyes falling to the ground. _ Shit, was that insensitive? _ Shawn was always joking and throwing names around-- whenever things got real Carlton found it hard to catch on. 

Shawn’s voice was small, cowed enough that Carlton felt a twinge of guilt. “I know. I sound pathetic. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“No, don’t apologize, I-- I was the one who came over here in the first place. Just--” Carlton searched around the club, as if some plan of action would appear on the walls. 

“Just what?”

“Do you want me to call Gus, or Juliet to pick you up? They could come sleep over with you.”

“No, please. I don’t want them to see me like this. I hate when I’m like this.”

Before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out like unobedient stones. “I can take you to your house.”

He cursed himself, but before Carlton could take it back he saw the shine in Shawn’s eyes. They were lit up, though more with contentedness than excitement. Fuck, he really had proposed this, huh?

\----

In the car, Carlton was surprised to see how still and docile Shawn was. In the daytime, he’d expect Shawn to be fiddling with every button and sticking his fingers in each nook and cranny, searching for God knows what with enough energy to power a city. But now, he was just sitting there, head slumped against the window as if he hadn’t been out partying just moments earlier.

Rain was pelting against the windshield, allowing for Carlton to only spare a glance over at Shawn every now and then. He hadn’t said anything yet, hadn’t even given his address. They were just driving on what vague direction Carlton knew Shawn’s house-- hell, was it even a house? It’s not like he’d ever visited-- was in.

“Well?”

“What?”

Carlton tried to urge Shawn on. “What’s your address?”

Shawn shook his head. “Don’t take me home.”

“Damnit, Spencer, you keep sending me mixed messages. I thought you said you were just lonely.”

“I am, but….”

Carlton paused, waiting for Shawn to continue.

Shawn ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know! I keep thinking about Mr. Yin.”

Shawn slumped in his seat, hands over his eyes. His body seemed to curl in on itself in a protective gesture Carlton recognized all too well on Juliet, when she’d broken just a few months earlier. Oh. So that’s what was happening.

Shawn continued, breaths labored. “I just keep wondering if he’ll come to my house. I thought it was just Yang but he-- he seems pretty obsessed with me too! Why doesn’t he just kill me already? He knows where I live, probably where I am every hour of the day. I live alone and isolated and-- well, what’s to stop him from killing me?”

The car slowed to a halt on a side street, Carlton shifting into park. Next to him, Shawn was still refusing to open his eyes. He was sucking in deep, almost pained breaths.

Carlton reached out, hand tentative and shaking. Shawn flinched as it found his back before sighing, leaning into the touch. Carlton pulled him closer, into a full hug. In this awkwardly intimate moment he’d never expected to end up in, he didn’t know what to say.

“You’re his adversary. He wouldn’t kill you. Besides, you’d figure some way out of it-- you always do. Remember when you got shot by that thief?”

Shawn shuddered a bit, though it may have been a stifled laugh. Carlton traced swirls up and down his back.

“You gave us everything we needed to find you and help you. If that ass tried anything, you’d find a way to tell us. I’d be down there in a heartbeat to cuff Yin.”

It was definitely now a laugh that ran through Shawn’s body. His head maneuvered to fit perfectly up against Carlton’s chest, a gesture Carlton rationalized as trying to seek warmth and further affection though his heart skipped a beat. He continued his motions, fingers feeling for the slowing of Shawn’s pulse.

“I know it’s dumb, Lassie. I can’t help it.”

Shawn bent his head back, looking in Carlton’s eyes. “Can I sleep at your place tonight?”

Carlton swallowed down the lump in his throat, probably killing the butterflies in his stomach. “Okay. Sure.”

How could he say no?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!! here's chapter 2!! might make a chapter 3, might not-- unsure as of rn.
> 
> also i realized halfway thru writing this that this is supposed to be the start of their relationship but it takes place later in time than the other fics so... chronology no longer applies to this AU. if i say it happened first, it happened first lmao. just enjoy. :3

They were silent as they walked through the door together, into Carlton’s home. Silent as he turned on the lights and hung their drenched coats up by the door. Silent as he pulled out some blankets and a pillow, setting up a makeshift bed on the couch. Each moment seemed to stretch on into infinity, accompanied only by the knowledge that, though he tried to avoid looking at his unexpected guest, Carlton was not alone. Shawn awkwardly coughed behind him, breaking through the uneasy quiet that had followed them from the car and into the house.

Carlton turned to face Shawn, unsure of what to say. “Here. Bathroom’s down the hall if you need it, and I’ll be....in my room. I’ll leave the door unlocked tonight.”

Shawn glanced up at him before looking away. “Thanks, again, Lassie.” He sat himself on the couch, clutching the blanket to his chest. He looked so small, a sharp contrast from his usual loud and bubbly self. Carlton almost wanted to tip up his chin and tell him to stop worrying and--

Nope, no, he wasn’t thinking about that. Carlton nodded to Shawn, waiting until he was on the other side of his bedroom door before letting out a long sigh. He hated sleeping with other people around-- too distracting, listening to their uneven breathing as they flipped between wakefulness and sleep, thinking about what they may do or how they might fuck up. As he crawled into bed, Carlton doubted he’d be getting a wink of sleep tonight.

\----

_ CRASH! _

Carlton bolted upright in bed, eyes wide and hair plastered to the side of his head. He dug under his pillow, drawing out an already-loaded pistol. Throwing back the covers, he bound over to the door, ear pressed up against the wood, waiting for another attack. There was a faint rumbling in the distance, one that came closer, grew louder, into a--

_ CRASH! _

The door swung open in a wide arc, banging as it hit the wall. He pushed himself up against the wall, head ducking around the corner into the bathroom before going in, checking the corners-- all clear. He repeated the procedure, working his way down the hallway. Another rumble worked its way through the house, accompanied by a brief silence. In the moments that followed, Carlton saw the bright flash first, a white light that peeked through the curtained windows and lit up the whole house, before he heard it again. A rumble, a rumble--

_ CRASH! _

Oh. It was a thunderstorm.

Carlton lowered his gun, cheeks hot with embarrassment. As he entered the living room, he cast a thankful glance to the sleeping figure on the couch-- at least Shawn hadn’t seen him, prancing around the house like a wimpy child scared of his own shadow. Another rumble, louder this time, announced itself, and Carlton closed his eyes, calming himself with a deep breath.

_ CRASH! _

_ “AH!” _

On the couch, Shawn yelped, thrashing about before managing to sit up. His eyes darted around the room, wild and nervous. Carlton blinked, setting his gun on the table as he approached.

“Hey, Shawn, it’s fine. It’s just thunder.”

Shawn met his eyes, breath fast and heavy. “It’s....what?”

Carlton simply glanced up at the ceiling as more thunder announced itself. It sounded quieter this time, as if finally moving away. Shawn followed his gaze, and the two watched the window together, waiting for the bright bolt of lightning.

Under his breath, Shawn murmured quietly. “One Mississippi.... Two Mississippi....”

“What’s that?”

“You’ve never counted lightning?”

The room was flooded with light once more, though it quickly subsided. The rumbling approached, turning into a cacophonous noise, almost catastrophic.

_ CRASH! _

More thunder. Carlton shook his head as Shawn began to count again. “What-- what is it? Why count?”

“Three Missi-- well, for each Mississippi you count between the thunder and the lightning, that’s how many miles it’s away from you. So this one’s....well, I’ve lost count now, haven’t I?”

As Shawn’s voice lowered in an almost thoughtful gesture, Carlton realized how close the two were. His hand rested on top of the couch, just inches from Shawn’s hair, and he had instinctively leaned in to try and hear his soft voice. Carlton cleared his throat, taking his hand off and instead scratching at his head.

“Never heard of it before. Sounds like something kids do.”

“Well, I mean, I don’t know how accurate it is, but you can at least tell if the storm’s moving away.”

There was more thunder, though it was nowhere near the overwhelming noise that had overtaken the house earlier. Silently, Carlton found himself counting.

_ One Mississippi.... Two Mississippi.... Three Mississippi.... Four-- _

The lightning was distant and short, short enough that he almost didn’t even catch it. As a minute passed in silent countings, Carlton couldn’t help but admit that the storm was on the other side of town by now-- a few more minutes and he’d be unable to hear it at all.

“Huh.” 

Shawn smiled. “See, I know things, Lassie. Weird things, but things nonetheless.”

“What, do you just spend your free time reading trivia books and browsing Wikipedia?”

Shawn rubbed his chin. “That’s not a bad idea actually.”

Carlton pretended to scratch his nose, covering an involuntary wide smile at that. He picked his gun up off the table. “So, you’re good now? Go back to sleep.”

Shawn eyed the gun. “D-” he cut off, laughing a little as he gestured at it. “Did you think we were being robbed?”

He scowled. “What? There’s nothing wrong with being cautious. Besides, after all your talk about Yin....” Carlton trailed off as Shawn wiped a tear of laughter from his eye.

“Oh, Lassie, that’s precious. I can just imagine the UPS guy stopping by early in the morning with a package, and you thinking he’s a Russian spy or something and-- bam! You’ve broken his leg.”

Carlton huffed. “Fine, I won’t come to your defense next time.”

As Carlton turned to leave, there was a hand on his arm. Shawn bent over the back of the couch, looking up at him.

“Wait, Lassie, no, I-- I really do appreciate this. Seriously. It’s....nice. Thank you.”

Dammit he could feel that blush betraying him again.

He hid his face, breaking free of Shawn’s grip. With a gruff voice, he replied. “Yeah. Get some sleep. And  _ don’t  _ touch anything if by some miracle you wake up earlier than me-- I’ll be cooking breakfast.”

Shawn chuckled. Carlton turned with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

He smiled gently, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “Well, I didn’t know I was staying for breakfast.”

Oh, dammit, Carlton.

How could he resist a smile like that?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the final chapter to this fic! sorry it took so long, i've been awfully swamped with classes and moving out of uni because of corona. anyway, here you go!

The soft sizzling of bacon in the pan filled the air, along with its scent. As he lifted the strips out of the pan and onto some plates, Carlton could hear a faint yawn, the indication of Shawn’s stirring.

Shawn blinked sleep out of his eyes, arms stretching above his head and shirt riding up a bit. “Heya, Lassie. Whatcha got there?”

“Eggs and bacon.”

“Mm, a classic.” Shawn got up, padding his way over to the little kitchenette. It was a small setup-- Carlton didn’t get to use it often, instead usually opting for takeout as he pored over case files late at night. He turned the flame off and brought out some cutlery.

“How do you feel?”

Shawn blinked. “Hmm?”

“You....you did seem pretty drunk last night. I was wondering if you have a hangover. I made the eggs as a hangover cure.”

Shawn picked up his fork, inspecting it. “Huh, I never knew eggs were good for that. I have a bit of a headache, but I’ve had worse.” 

Carlton nodded, more to himself as he scraped the contents of the pan onto two plates. He handed the larger portion to Shawn, pretending not to notice the warm brush of Shawn’s fingers as he accepted the plate. Digging in, Shawn chuckled.

“Ya know, it’s, uh, so weird to think that I’m really here. Usually when I get wasted I end up at my Dad’s, or on Gus’s couch. Hell, sometimes Jules will help me and I’ll end up back home. I never thought in my wildest dreams I’d be here.”

Carlton continued eating, unsure how to answer. “Well uh....I guess I just happened to be there for once. Spencer, how often  _ do  _ you get drunk?”

Shawn took a sip of his water, silently counting on his fingers. After a while he gave up. “Now and then. Usually at home, but the Psych office was out of beers.”

Carlton scowled. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Whatever it is you’re drinking alone for, don’t. It’s, it’s.... Shawn I drink a lot, and it sounds like a problem to me.”

Shawn scoffed. “What? Lassie I--”

“I don’t know how much you remember of last night, but you talked about Yin.”

The room was silent, Shawn staring at his plate and Carlton staring at him. Shawn slowly lowered his fork, the clatter of metal against ceramic seeming to echo on forever.

“Did I, now?”

“Shawn, drinking yourself to death won’t make you forget about him and Yang and everything that happened. Stop avoiding it. Talk to us. O’Har--” He shook his head. “Juliet went through all of that too. She doesn’t blame you in the slightest, though I know you think she does. I don’t blame you, and Guster sure as hell doesn’t. We’re....we’re your friends.”

Shawn looked up, face twitching into a smile. “Geez, Lassie, I didn’t know you felt that way about me. And all it took was me getting drunk for you to say it, too.”

Carlton wanted to slap him but instead he rested his hand on Shawn’s. “You’re not getting drunk again. If you try to, I’ll come down there and smash the bottle myself.”

....Was that the sun coming in, or were Shawn’s cheeks actually turning red? He cleared his throat, hand slipping out from under Carlton’s to run a hand through his hair.

“Thanks for the breakfast. Care to drive me home? Your place is  _ kinda _ far from my house, and I have plans to watch this new deep sea documentary.”

“Yeah, I can drop you off, but don’t get settled in-- the Chief called me while you were still asleep. We’ve got a murder downtown, and she mentioned that she wants you on it already. So, a quick change and I’ll expect you back outside in ten.”

“Oh? We’ll be driving together to work then? Gee, Carlton, don’t you have a reputation to uphold?” Shawn batted his eyelashes at him, back to his teasingly innocent and cheery self already.

“Not a word of this--  _ any _ of this-- to anyone, Spencer.” Getting up, he began lightly rinsing their plates in the sink, a preliminary cleaning before they headed out.

“What, that I had a sleepover with you? No, that’s some juicy info I’m keeping all to myself for now. Besides, if I don’t tell that means we can keep doing this.”

He froze.

He couldn’t help the stupid grin pulling at his lips, or the warm feeling blossoming in his chest. No, this definitely wasn’t happening, he wasn’t--

He turned around. Shawn’s nervous smile was all he needed to see.

“Yaknow, hanging out? You make pretty good eggs, I’ve gotta say. I....I wouldn’t mind doing this again.” He gestured vaguely before resting his palms on his knees. It was adorable. He was adorable.

Carlton smirked to himself, striding past Shawn to grab his coat. “Maybe, if you bring something to go along with them. Now come on. We’ve got a case.”


End file.
